An Unexpected Bromance
by FujimoriChikaru
Summary: They made an odd pair: the obnoxious, loud-mouthed American and the respectful, soft spoken Asian. It was always a surprise to see how much they had in common. Especially to see how they would interact every December 7 since that Big Fight in fourth grade


Hello! Um… so, just a few things to say: the whole purpose of this was to show how anybody – but kids especially – can take what they hear or see the wrong way, and how that could affect their relationship with others (I think I may have exaggerated it a bit though...). When there's a lapse in communication, or just avoidance in general, it doesn't really make the problem go away. Sometimes, all that's necessary is to go up to the other party and just talk. Or something. Anything to breach that barrier. And, if the problem ends up completely forgotten or unspoken of, it obviously wasn't important, and wouldn't it be a shame to lose a friendship over some issue that turned out to not be important at all?

… I'm done lecturing now n.n" Also (though you might forget this detail by the time you get to the end…), "Angelique" is supposed to be Seychelles, and "Xiang" is Hong Kong (all of Alfred's mispronunciations are on purpose). I really, really wanted Sweden and Finland to have a bigger part in this, but it… it just wouldn't fit… D: And, at the end, the last, like… four scenes I think, all take place a year after another… I'm not sure whether I had made that clear enough… (most of those scenes were inspired by Ameripan pictures I found on tumblr, so give props to those artists! n.n)

Okey, before I finish up this AN, I just want to say that **I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia **and that I hope you all enjoy

* * *

><p><strong>An <strong>**Unexpected Bromance**

They made an odd pair: the obnoxious, loud-mouthed American and the respectful, soft spoken Asian.

Alfred F. Jones (he had refused to take his father's surname, as he found his mother's maiden name to be "catchier") could be seen a mile away and heard from even farther, his rowdy laughter detectable even on the noisiest of Fridays at lunch. His remarkable stature alone singled him out in a crowd of otherwise duplicate blondes as he ran and pushed and shoved his way to his next class, regardless of how early he would arrive, simply to get "first dibs" on the best seat (which seemed to vary with every passing day). Overall, he was friendly and chatty, unless one happened to be his older half-brother, an uptight British student by the name of Arthur Kirkland, in which case said Briton was metaphorically screwed because Alfred showed no mercy whatsoever when in the midst of his shenanigans…

Without fail, Kiku Honda would be at Alfred's side, like a shadow, perhaps running alongside him and apologizing to those who had nearly been run over and/or roughly pushed or shoved, perhaps clinging to the back of the aforementioned American's shirt in a desperate effort to not be left stranded in the maze of golden-haired students… and apologizing to those who had nearly been run over and/or roughly pushed or shoved. The Asian occasionally needed prompting to speak up louder, stuck out exceptionally in the halls due to his coal-black hair and snow-white skin (both of which were strong contrasts to the physical characteristics of the majority of the school), and was known for his reticent and somewhat shy attitude when randomly approached.

Obviously, one could list several differences just by looking at Alfred and Kiku, let alone having a single conversation with them, so it was always a surprise to others when they discovered just how much the two had in common.

It was especially interesting to see how they would interact every December 7th since that Big Fight they had in fourth grade.

* * *

><p>Yao Wang (who inherited his mother's maiden name, due to her insistence and their resembling features) was the older brother of Kiku by four years. His hair, which reached just past the nape of his neck, benevolent smile and slender frame gave him the appearance of a girl, a "very obvious mistake, aru!" Yao did not mind pointing out loudly and painfully with his trademark wok, thus discouraging his classmates from further mistaking his gender at any point in the future.<p>

Arthur Kirkland was the older half-brother of both Alfred and Matthew, by three and four years respectfully. His disheveled hair, sticking up in every direction (almost like he hadn't bothered to brush it after waking up), and impossibly bushy eyebrows were the only imperfections in his otherwise immaculate appearance. Arthur's usual demeanor (polite and formal, just like a good English gentleman) was quick to change without warning, pleasant words developing a tone of biting disgust as he spat out insults with alarming speed when provoked.

Despite the distinct differences in their backgrounds and behaviors, Arthur and Yao were similar in the sense that they were both polite and protective of their siblings by nature. They got along quite nicely with one another as friendly acquaintances; with Arthur as Student Council President and Yao as the Representative, there was no reason to avoid the other outside of meetings. On the contrary, they frequently mapped out upcoming gatherings over lunch.

Their companionship was fragile – as they were not _really_ close – and so all it took was a few conflicting perspectives to shatter what little chance of friendship they had.

"Look at these papers! Why are some reports of particular clubs filled out completely while others look almost blank?"

"I can work only with what I am given, aru! What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to _do your job! _And what is this? You're distributing _our_ hard-earned money to other clubs!"

"It is only a loan! They will pay us back when they can, aru!"

"Oh, really? What a coincidence that the money you donated went _only _to the clubs you gave a full report on! And the _presidents _of those clubs are all people you know personally!"

"What are you suggesting?"

"You're only giving money to the clubs your friends run!"

"That is not true, aru!"

"Then explain this!"

"I-"

"Or can you not?"

"Aiiyah! At least listen to my answer when you ask me a question, aru!"

With that one, later insignificant dispute, the two clashed constantly, until the time the two spent arguing was almost equal to the amount of time Arthur spent fighting with his own rival, Francis Bonnefoy.

By the end of the year, the Asian and Briton could barely so much as greet each other with forced smiles that looked more like twisted grimaces caused by physical pain. From that point on, they never once exchanged casual conversation.

* * *

><p>Even before either of the Asian brothers' births, their parents had hoped to have more than one child, so as to raise at least one with either of their cultures. Yao was taught Chinese, while Kiku was taught Japanese, and, as they lived in New York City, it should go without saying that they were both taught English as well. They were fluent in their given languages, but Yao, who was older and thought himself responsible for each and everything regarding Kiku, began to teach the latter Chinese, and in turn learned Japanese.<p>

At ten, Yao was moderately fluent in all three languages, just as Kiku was at six.

From then on, Yao tutored Kiku every day after school, from spelling and subtraction and what rainbows were made of to contractions and counting money and metamorphosis to multiplication and adverbs and the water cycle.

Kiku had just mastered simple division ("it is just like time tables but backwards, aru") and started on long division before the school year had ended. His second grade teacher, who had found her star pupil's math notebook by the end of the year (pages filled with problems third graders had just finished learning), had already requested he skip third grade and go straight to fourth.

At ten, Arthur had given up on teaching his brothers to speak "proper English" (Alfred seemed intent on butchering the language while Matthew expressed a stronger interest in learning French, much to his and Alfred's Canadian father's delight and the trio's shared Anglo-American mother's horror). Matthew understood his first grade lessons without complication and completed what little homework he was given without backtalk whilst Alfred whined and complained that he "didn't get it" – despite having no problem explaining what he learned to his younger brother – and would reject any offered assistance "'cause he didn't need no help, he just had to watch this show really quick".

Alfred, under the surveillance of Matthew (the only one whose watch he would work under; Mattie didn't get impatient or angry like Arthur or their parents, so there was never any point in trying), worked better when he spoke his thoughts aloud ("seventeen minus nine… seven plus one is eight… so it's eight!") and found Matthew to be reliable when the younger understood the pattern in his older brother's homework ("it's not fourteen? Four and one make five, not three and one, eh…").

When Alfred snuck into Matthew's classroom during second-grade lunch to have his classwork double-checked, the third time that week – on a Wednesday no less – the latter's instructor watched, suspicion turning into fascination, as his student studied the example problem on the worksheet before correcting the mistakes ("the six is s'pposed to be a seven, eh. 'Cause, see? Make this zero… ten… and you 'carried over'… so this is nine… minus two… seven!"). He later insisted Matthew Williams go straight into the third grade for the upcoming school year.

With Kiku and Matthew skipping a grade – albeit at different times, but nonetheless – they took fourth grade the same year as Alfred, despite the fact that they were both a year younger than the chatty blonde.

* * *

><p>"Kiiiikuuuuu~!"<p>

With only the call and an approaching russet blur for warning, the Asian boy was barely able to close his eyes and tense in preparation for the friendly tackle he received.

"Itai!"

Of course, the "friendly tackle" would have seemed a bit more innocent if the victim hadn't hit the back of his head on the ground; fortunately, he was in the field.

Kiku had learned the previous year to never stand around in the pavement, lest Feliciano decide _then _he was in the mood for a hug.

"Feliciano, _please,_ get off of Kiku."

Ludwig had long since learned to save the yelling for more important and urgent circumstances; in first grade alone, he had lost his voice no less than seven times after meeting the younger Italian brother.

"But, Ludwig! I haven't seen Kiku in a whole two weeks, ve!"

"'S alright, Feli. Stay on the rice ball. He doesn't mind."

Lovino smirked when Ludwig heaved a large sigh and did not comment further, always one to take every available opportunity to annoy the German.

"Kiku, did you find out who your teacher this year would be?"

"Un. I will be in O-Okusenteruna-sensei's class this year."

"Yaaaaaaaaaaay~!" Feliciano's hold on the Asian tightened. "Ve~! I'm so happy we all finally get to have school together!"

(Feliciano, Lovino and Ludwig have been in the same class since first grade, but they had become friends with Kiku not long into the previous school year; Kiku had been sitting alone at lunch, as both Xiang and Im Yong Soo happened to be absent that day, and Feliciano had just plopped down beside him, began to chat and, before they knew it, the four were all engaged in a pleasant conversation (except for a certain Italian who managed to randomly screech obscenities at a certain German).)

" 'Kay cl'ss," a man, tall and broad, walked to where his assigned assembly of students had gathered, a clipboard just obscuring his features from view. As he approached the crowd of nine-and-ten-year-olds, he lowered the clipboard, only to reveal the most terrifying face the children had ever before seen.

Screams erupted all around that general area (as it did every year, with each new round of adolescents to be put in Mr. Oxenstierna's class), the gathered youngsters remaining in place, too frightened to move as their sharp, piercing cries burst forth from their lungs and already-sore throats. Kiku, who had managed to awkwardly sit up before the teacher had arrived, found the hold Feliciano encased him in to grow more and more constricting with every passing second, and could almost _feel _the red hues on his face.

"Don't worry!" a little blond boy adorning glasses attempted to yell over the shrill shrieks and screeches. "I'm the hero! I can take care of this monster, no problem!" With a deep breath, the youth charged, ignored the resulting raised brow of the frightening man, and let forth an onslaught of punches at the large legs with a "take that! And that! And that! Andthatandthat! Andthatandthatandthatandtha-!"

"Moi!" Without warning, the struggling boy found himself lifted up in the air and held at arm's length, a soft and feminine face marred only by a slight furrow of brows invading his vision. "What are you doing?"

"I was offering my heroic services by bravely and valiantly confronting the supernatural being that threatened my life and that of many others!"

Violet eyes blinked once, twice, thrice. "That's… a mouthful for a little boy like you…"

"Did I say it right, then? Dad's been trying to get me to rememborize it for a while…"

"Ahaha, why don't you offer your… heroic services… to the boy over there having trouble breathing?" As this was said, though, the same purple irises were glancing between the red-and-blue face and the other children who, still paralyzed by fear, had not stopped screaming.

"Huh! Where!" Upon finding the Asian, who was indeed looking quite purple, mentioned, the boy took off to provide his aid after being set down. "Alfred to the rescue!"

With a brief smile at the child's attitude, Tino immediately turned to the man beside him. "D-don't worry, Mr. Oxenstierna! I can handle the children, they're just… not used to… _seeing_ you…"

* * *

><p>Feliciano's cries reached an almost impractical pitch when he felt hands trying (and failing) to remove his arms from his new security blanket. Russet eyes snapped open when he could no longer feel his support, and he pitched forward, his face epically planting into the ground. A bit teary-eyed from the impact, he glimpsed up to find his friend, who was short of breath and in the grasp of another boy, who somehow managed to look proud of himself and send the young Italian an admonishing look.<p>

"O-Oi!" Lovino called out to the bespectacled child, still a bit shaken up from the petrifying man's appearance but forever ready to threaten the life of any who dared to so much as dampen his brother's typical happy-go-lucky attitude. Without hesitation he raced over to Feliciano's side and helped the other stand, absentmindedly brushing off the dirt that had gathered over the younger's front as he shouted to the blonde, "You better fuckin' 'pologize!"

"Fear not, inn'cent citizen! I saved you from the clutches of your captor!" when the only reply received was erratic breaths brought back to control, the boy, appeased, boasted, "My heroics seem to have lefted you speechless! S'all good, you don't need to reward me! If you want to, though, that's cool too; I really like McDon-"

"Ano…" Kiku managed, face only slightly tinged pink, "I-I think you should apologize to Feliciano-kun…"

"Fetch-what-now?"

"My brother, you shi-"

"Ve~! I-I don't mind, I fall a lot anyways…"

Ludwig, who had been pinching the bridge of his nose, opened his mouth to protest at the same time Lovino had when both were cut off by their new loudmouthed companion.

"Oh, okay then! And by the way, my name's Alfred, Alfred F. Jones!"

* * *

><p>After Tino had successfully managed to calm the new students and convinced them to follow their teacher to the assigned classroom ("He may look very scary, but," the Finnish had mumbled to them, his motherly features expressing empathy and minor amusement as he promised, "he really is very nice."). Upon entering their new classroom, the youngsters craned their heads, examining every angle with wide, awed eyes as they took in the bookshelves stacked with textbooks rather than petite hard-and-soft-covered books, posters with English and math symbols most were unfamiliar with, writing on the whiteboards that looked too-hard to pronounce, organized stacks of paper with only a few loose sheets scattered over the largest desk. The student's desks were arranged in neat groups of six, leaving plenty of space to move around the small assemblies and large gaps in the center and circumference of the designated homeroom. With a gruff clearing of the throat, the teacher held up a sticker of a blue rectangle with a long yellow cross.<p>

"'m fr'm Sw'd'n." He grunted before walking over to his desk, peeling the sticker and smoothing it on the wooden surface. From there he held out several waxy plastic sheets with vibrant patterns and colors of all different kinds. Tino obediently handed out the labeled sheets to the corresponding student after calling out their names. The children were then instructed to find seats and place the removable stickers they were given over the desk they chose.

"Ve, ve, ve, ve!" Feliciano chanted as he gently pushed Kiku forward to a cluster of desks. Kiku chose a corner seat, Lovino across him, Ludwig two seats from the older Italian while Feliciano, naturally, filled the space between the last two. Just as they had situated themselves, Alfred trotted over to the party of four.

"Hey, uh… is it okay if me and Mattie sit with you guys?"

The addressed blinked once, twice, thrice and, suddenly, the air Alfred had his hand enclosed around became a wrist, and attached to that wrist was a hand and an arm, and from there the rest of the body became visible. "Mattie" looked remarkably similar to Alfred, though the former's eyes were more lilac than blue and there a long tell-tale curl protruding from his head where Alfred's was a mere cowlick.

"It is… fine." Kiku answered hesitantly, as his friends were still a bit shocked at the abrupt appearance of Alfred's almost-clone, casting a glance toward the other three, as if for confirmation. Ludwig, regaining his composure, nodded in agreement. Alfred sat across the German, leaving Matthew to sit between his brother and Kiku.

"Ve~! So, so, Kiku, did you enjoy your trip?"

"Hai. We spent a week in Shanghai and a week in Tokyo."

"Where's that?" Alfred interjected, "China?"

"Shanghai is, but Tokyo-"

"Dude! You went to _China_!"

"Al, it's rude to int'ruppt, eh."

"But Mattie, China! That's where all my action figures were made!"

Kiku shook his head, and found that he was entertained at Alfred's enthusiasm.

Tino watched from where he stood next to the teacher's desk, smiling at the children interacting.

* * *

><p>Alfred listened, rubbing his eraser harshly against the worksheet, as Feliciano begged Kiku to stay over at the Vargas' house for dinner. The younger Italian brother had been so preoccupied with his doodling ("Paaaaaastaaa~" he had mumbled longingly, his mouth watering at the sight of the rigatoni he had drawn) when Mr. Oxenstierna explained long division (with Tino translating, of course; it was only mid-October, after all, and while the children were able to guess about half of what their teacher was saying, six weeks was hardly enough time for them to understand it all) and, therefore, was clueless about the process. Lovino had completed all but five problems before napping; Ludwig, after double-checking his work, immersed himself in a book (only to immediately attempt to dissuade Kiku visiting Feliciano's house when the latter had breached the topic). Mattie, like Ludwig, had begun reading when he had finished, but found more enjoyment in watching the Asian weighing his options, unsure as to which decision he should assent to (refusing invitations was very offensive, but Ludwig had warned him of Italian food after the last time they had both slept over at Feliciano-kun's house…).<p>

"A-ano…"

"_Per favore, _Kiku! I understand more from you teaching me, ve!"

"Eto…"

"Do you not remember what happened when you last ate Italian food, Kiku!"

"No, actually…"

"_Kiku~!_"

"I need help too," Alfred announced, crumpling up the paper he had spilled water on and pushing his worksheet – chicken scratch and bits of paper that had become worn from erasing too roughly in the same spot surrounding the first two problems – toward the center of the gathered desks. Kiku pursed his lips, eyes flickering between both of the companions that had requested his help; he noticed Matthew sharply turn to face Alfred, but did not see the curious look sent toward the latter.

"Can Matthew-kun not help you…?"

"I don't really get it when Mattie explains. I seen you help Feli-chow-no," the other four frowned, though they did not comment; sad as it was, Alfred had somewhat _improved_ in his attempts of proper pronunciation, though they predicted another month at _least _before he would pronounce it correctly. "and I think I'd get it better if you helped me."

Kiku sighed, noting there was less than five minutes before school ended.

"How 'bout you and him stay over at my place? Then you could help both of us and you won't have to eat Italian food!"

"I do not know…"

"But… _Nonno _is making pasta tonight, ve."

"Well, you got more done than me… you can leave early? Like, when you finish?"

"Ve!" Feliciano agreed with a nod.

"Well Kiku?" Alfred turned once more to the Asian, eyes growing wider as he pouted, and Kiku found himself unable to look away.

"If… Mother does not mind…"

"Yay~!" Alfred cheered, just as the bell rang and the class was dismissed. He followed Kiku to meet the younger's mother and, after she had met Alfred's mother and wrote down the address, wished her son a good day with a promise to pick him up no later than five. Feliciano – after racing over to his grandfather (the kindergarten teacher (which was fitting, as any time that wasn't spent learning was spent sleeping)), for permission and racing back – handed the copy of the address to Lovino, who grumbled a good-bye and walked back to his grandfather (under normal circumstances he would have stuck to Feli like glue, especially since the brainless American couldn't hope to pronounce his brother's name correctly, but _Nonno _was going on errands today, which meant the Spanish babysitter would be over, and Lovino enjoyed tormenting the compliant teenager who would yield to his every demand with little to no protest).

Just as Alfred's mother was walking the assembly of four children, Matthew - unnoticed to others as always – whispered to his brother, "Al, I thought you finished the classwork already, eh. Wasn't that the paper you spilled water on, so you went to get a new paper?"

"I dunno what you're talkin' 'bout." Alfred claimed, walking a bit faster so he was next to Kiku and immediately initiated a conversation with the Asian.

Matthew looked between them with a slight frown and pursed lips, able to see the jigsaw pieces but unsure of the image they made when completed.

From beside the doorframe, Tino's eyes followed the four children following a blonde mother in a single file line, much like baby ducks. A grin stretched across his face, like that of one in on a secret.

* * *

><p>"Black tea."<p>

Arthur looked up, blinked once, twice, thrice before he let loose a short laugh. "I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if you knew the name as well!"

Kiku, accepting the challenge, closed his eyes, took a long, slow sip from the teacup and paused. "Keemun."

"You seem pretty familiar with tea for a nine year-old." Arthur commented with raised furry brows.

"My brother and I drink tea every afternoon, so I have no problem telling some apart. Asian tea is my favorite."

"Hmm… This is the only type of Asian tea I've tried; a friend of mine once suggested it to me. I myself prefer Earl Grey. You know… for the life of me… I just can't tell what race you are. Chinese?"

"My mother is Chinese, my father is Ja-"

Three tolls, in quick succession, from the doorbell halted the conversation. Alfred and Matthew poked their heads out from the kitchen, where the former had been arguing with their parents over what they would have for dinner ("But Kiku hadn't has McDonald's before and his mom's real late! It won't take long, and I really wanna burger!") as Kiku glanced over at the analog clock, the long hand almost meeting the shorter at a mocking six. Arthur immediately stood and answered the door.

"I-I apologize… for arriv… ing so late, aru." The figure, bent over with a hand against the door frame and the other over the chest housing a rapidly beating heart, panted. The bowed head rose, amber eyes widening as they met forest-green irises. With effort, shaky smiles were plastered to both faces.

"Ah, Arthur Kirkland. I seem to have come to the wrong house…" Yao took a deep breath and straightened. "I am looking for the Williams residence, would you happen to know where…?"

"Nii-chan!"

Yao glanced at Kiku from over Arthur's shoulder and heaved a relieved sigh. "Oh, Kiku… Get your backpack, we are going home, aru."

Kiku nodded and headed toward his friends to the kitchen, where he had left his school supplies. Yao followed his brother with his eyes. "Are your parents home, aru?" When no answer was received, he looked back to Arthur and blinked, brows furrowing at the dark look on the Briton's face. "Yes…?"

"It's _six-thirty!_ What's the excuse this time!"

Yao gaped. _"'Excuse'!"_

"Yes, '_excuse!' _Give me your _excuse _for why Kiku was left here for a whole _hour and a half _after your mom was set to pick him up!"

Yao glared at Arthur. "You did not answer my question, aru."

_"Why are you late?"_

With a huff, Yao crossed his arms. He could see Kiku bowing to the parents of the household through the open kitchen door. "Father has to work late tonight, so my mother was left to run last-minute errands-"

"My, how smart of her."

"Aiiyah! Almost a year and you're as rude as ever!"

"Nii-chan…?"

"Ah, Kiku… just wait here, I must speak to your friends' parents, aru."

"Hai…"

With a final hard stare at Arthur, Yao pushed his way through.

* * *

><p>"Why were you so late, Nii-chan?" Kiku murmured after he and Yao had been dropped off by Alfred and Matthew's father.<p>

"I was working on a project at a friend's house. Father has to stay at work late and Mother had a bit of car trouble, but she's on her way home now." Yao explained as he unlocked the door. "Go shower, I will start dinner, aru."

Kiku nodded as he removed his shoes and backpack, rubbing his eyes as he exited the living room. Yao watched him with a tired upturn of the lips and turned to the kitchen.

"Nii-chan?" Kiku called on his way to the bathroom, "Can we have Earl Grey tomorrow?"

Yao's smile twitched and his grip on the wok tightened. "Of course, Kiku." He forced out through clenched teeth, though the tension left his body when he heard Kiku humming a song under his breath. Yao sighed and chewed on his lower lip.

Well… so long as Kiku decided to not stay over _too often _at the Williams residence, Yao didn't see an inevitable complication arising.

* * *

><p>Kiku had asked his mother for permission the night he returned from his friends' house, yet was not quite able to work up the nerve to ask, as he never had before (it was Yao who had invited Feliciano, Lovino and Ludwig when Kiku felt he himself could not); how did one ask another to spend the night?<p>

"A… ano… Matthew-kun?"

Matthew started, as he could never really remember anyone, save for his brother, calling on him. "Um, yes…?"

Kiku's eyes flickered toward Alfred, who was reading a comic in the corner with beanbag chairs (and taking up every single one by laying them out and "stretchin'"). Somehow, Kiku found more difficulty speaking in the older boy's presence and, therefore, though it would be best if Matthew passed the word to Alfred later. "You are all welcome to… sleep over at my house tomorrow, if you would like."

"I would love to, Kiku, ve!" Feliciano beamed, before he looked over at his brother and tugged lightly at his sleeve. "Lovi will come too, right?"

Lovino huffed and shrugged – arms crossed and a bored look on his face – but it only took a glance at his twin to soften his resolve. "It wouldn't hurt to take a free meal…" He grumbled.

"And Ludwig will be there too, of course!" Feliciano turned expectantly to the German who, under the captivating gaze (Ludwig could almost swear he saw sparkles in those eyes), could only nod with an all-too-obvious blush, which Lovino absolutely _had _to comment (gripe) on. Matthew grinned and looked over at the Asian beside him.

"I know mom will let us go, and Alfred will be excited, eh."

"Um, about that… eto… Matthew-kun… can you tell Alfred-kun later? Maybe after school?"

Matthew blinked. "Sure, I guess…" He agreed, suspiciously eyeing the obviously embarrassed boy next to him. Lovino, Feliciano and Ludwig may have been too occupied (as the former would always find (make) an excuse to remark (fuss) about the latter, and the younger Italian would always be left to (epically fail to attempt to) dissolve the childish argument) to notice, but Matthew had been watching how, slowly, Alfred and Kiku would act just a little bit differently around each other. His brother suddenly talked much louder than before at their table, would frequently glance at the boy on the other side of Matthew, tried to involve the Asian in every conversation, improvised any kind of rationalization to get Kiku's attention. Kiku's voice became exceedingly softer, would fidget when he felt eyes focused on him, gave concise replies and opinions when the American cornered him into talking, accepted each and every justification when he received Alfred's complete attention with an almost-invisible smile. Matthew knew that their odd behaviors emerged only when they were together, but, even with the perimeter of the puzzle constructed, there was still so much left in the center to fill out, he didn't know where to start because, no matter where he tried to fit the next piece, it never seemed to connect with what was already put together.

Tino, who had been walking by to gently scold Alfred for using up all the beanbag chairs, immediately backtracked to tell Berwald what he had just heard – because he was _certain, _no matter how dubious Berwald seemed to be.

* * *

><p>Yao, hair loose and spilling over his shoulders, still garbed in his pajamas and sporting perceptible dark circles under his glazed-over eyes, uncaringly opened the front door on a horrible, horrible unfittingly-sunny Saturday morning to see Arthur, hair as messy as it always had and always would be, in clothes that looked too formal to wear on a weekend and practically displaying those disgustingly furry eyebrows (Francis <em>just <em>might be on to something with those caterpillar references…) which, needless to say, only made Yao's grim mood even worse_._ The Asian seemed to wake up just enough to send the Briton a vexing glare that warned the latter from even _considering _setting foot in the house and, leaving the door wide open, left to fetch the last of Kiku's friends to (thankfully, _thankfully_) leave.

Yao let out a long, drawn-out sigh when he (perhaps a bit too-roughly) shut the door and wordlessly marched to his room. He blamed his sleep deprivation for imagining Kiku looking too-longingly at Alfred's departing form – the only one that glanced back more than twice before he was ten steps out the door – and in a (surely nonexistent) blush.

At that point, Yao didn't know whether or not keeping Kiku from Arthur's influence was worth missing out on well-deserved rest. He decided he would sleep on it.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Kiku?"<p>

The Asian looked up from the swing he sat on, cheeks pinking just a bit under Alfred's wide, curious stare, and just barely managed a meek, "Yes?"

"You know Zang right?" The American inquired, pointing at a boy on the other side of the playground who never once opened his mouth as another boy, a year younger, talked animatedly, never once pausing for breath.

"… Xiang." Kiku corrected, his face's original shade and flat, monotone voice returning.

"Yeah, I _know_, the one listening to E-Monsoon."

"… Im Yong Soo."

"'S what I said! Anyway, you know 'im right?"

"Yes, I know both of them; Xiang is my cousin, and Im Yong Soo's parents are my parents' friends."

"Cool! So, um, She-Hang has three flags on his desk, one like one of the ones me and Mattie has, one with a flower and the other looks like one on your desk… the red one with yellow stars?"

"That is the flag for China."

"So, um, yeah I know you're Chinese… so he's Chinese… but, like, what else are you? What's that white flag with the big red dot in the middle for?"

"Oh, that is the flag for Ja-"

"Kiiiikuuuuu~!"

Alfred blinked once and found Kiku ten feet away, just setting foot in the field, blinked again and found Kiku flat on his stomach atop the grass, Feliciano hugging the Asian from behind, blinked once more and tried to process just how so much happened in so little time before realizing the Italian was _hogging_ Kiku. Well, Alfred _was _a hero after all, he would only need to rescue the captive (which he immediately set out to do) to earn the praise he so _rightfully _deserved.

Surprisingly enough, Feliciano was able to (or rather, chose to) observe how flushed the others' faces were when Alfred held Kiku close, just as the former had on the first day they met – two months prior – and the pout Feliciano had made when he felt Kiku removed from his person became a smile when he recognized the situation (for he was Italian through and through, so the tricky shades and tones were no match for his eye for colors; he could complete jigsaws of polar bears in the snow or a cloudless sky with little to no trouble).

* * *

><p>Two weeks into November, the second month of that school year, Kiku had once more invited his friends to sleep over that Saturday; Xiang's parents were going to be out of town that weekend, so he would be there as well.<p>

However, Im Yong Soo's parents had called that week after everything had been set: their house had to be fumigated, and the only time available was that same weekend.

Yao and Kiku's parents, though, had managed to work out the sleeping arrangements: they themselves would give up their own bed to Im Yong Soo's parents and sleep in the living room for the duration of their guests' stay; as there were only three spare futons, the two sets of visiting brothers would have to share one and Ludwig would have his own (just as the time before) for that night while Kiku and Yao would share their own with either of their cousins.

It really was such a shame that the family hadn't thought to add Alfred's stubborn nature into the equation.

* * *

><p>"Kiiiikuuuuu~!"<p>

The ebony-haired boy of eight years who had just taken a few steps out of his room when called turned on his heel and hoped to reach the safe haven before-

"Your breasts belong to me, da-ze~!"

Kiku, back pressed against the slammed door from his crouched position, awkwardly reached up to lock him and his friends in. He disregarded the curious glances shot his way as the pounding on the wood continued.

"He will leave you alone when he sees Yao." Xiang blankly stated, or perhaps even predicted because, as if on cue, the sound of hurried footsteps was pursued by a joyous cry of "Aniiikiiiii~!"

"Who the hell was that?" Lovino asked, raising a brow at how similar the boy on the other side of the door was to Feliciano.

"He sounds really nice, ve!" The younger Italian beamed, and Lovino could tell his brother wanted to meet the riceball's friend (which led the Lovino to face-palm; the knowledge of an Asian version of Feli was scary enough, but the thought of them actually meeting was downright horrifying!)

"That was Im Yong Soo, I will… introduce you to him later. If I try now, he won't stop touching me."

At the last sentence to leave Kiku's mouth, both Matthew and Feliciano's eyes flickered briefly at the sour face Alfred made in response. Lovino followed his twin's line of vision and blinked once, twice, thrice, processing the information and adding _due_ and _due_ to make _quattro_ before he snorted and forced down the burst of laughter that had almost escaped his lips (because, though he and his brother may be polar opposites, he was no more nor less Italian than Feli).

* * *

><p>Kiku had, not five minutes earlier, left to change into pajamas before heading back to his room. Upon his return, however, he found the Vargas brothers in their shared futon (with Feliciano wrapping his arms tightly around Lovino's stomach, much to the latter's protest (though he did nothing to remove the limbs holding him captive)), Ludwig and Matthew sitting upright in their respective mattresses, Xiang and Im Yong Soo standing by the door as Alfred, in Kiku's futon, sent them a challenging stare.<p>

(When Kiku had excused himself, Im Yong Soo had promptly (and a bit _too _innocently) asked if they would be sharing his bed, to which the former replied with an "Only if you don't start touching me again," and was barely able to make out Alfred's protesting and disbelieving tone before the door was shut.)

"Ano… Alfred-kun? Can you go to your own futon, please, so Im Yong Soo and I can sleep?"

"Why?"

The other occupants of the room blinked in surprise (except Xiang, obviously, for he was never surprised; he blinked at the same time with the others by mere coincidence, of course) at the brash tone Alfred used. To no avail, Kiku attempted to persuade his friend to abide by the sleeping arrangement; there was still no progress (on the Asian's part, of course) ten minutes later, when Yao burst in.

"Aiiyah! You are still up, even at this hour? I am tired, aru!" He turned to Xiang and Im Yong Soo, "Whichever of you two to sleep in my room best come with me now, or you may find the door to be locked later, aru."

"He won't get off!" Im Yong Soo pouted and complained childishly, pointing at Alfred offensively.

"I wanna sleep with Kiku!"

After much complaining (on Alfred's part, of course), it was decided both Im Yong Soo and Xiang would share Yao's futon (which would smell of peonies and Chinese spices and fresh rain and bamboo and- Im Yong Soo found himself unable to continue his thoughts when Xiang hit him upside the head).

* * *

><p>Kiku almost regretted submitting to Alfred's demands when he discovered that the latter did not mind taking up the remains of space left on the bed. The former lay still – unmoving, even – as Alfred tossed and turned and kicked and flopped. Kiku was just starting to doze off, lids heavy and a large yawn escaping past his lips, about a half hour later when he felt his bedmate reach over and hold him close, a bit tightly but not enough to hurt. The Asian blushed, pausing mid-turn and remained on his back as Alfred scoot closer, heaving a leg over those of the younger. Against his cheek, Kiku felt the frame of the other's glasses and removed them, folding them and setting them at the far end of the bed, which, perhaps, led Alfred to nuzzle both the pillow and the warm face with sleepy content.<p>

Kiku, to his own surprise, found he didn't mind the close contact.

* * *

><p>"Kiiiikuuuuu~!"<p>

The aforementioned halted mid-sentence, shutting his eyes and tensing as he (reluctantly) awaited the inevitable (because the nearest hiding spot was more than ten feet away, and at the rate Im Yong Soo was (incomprehensibly) capable of flying, Kiku knew he had no hope of reaching the beckoning room before he would be assaulted). He couldn't help but tremble when the small, inquisitive hands groped at his chest, the sensation so _weird _and somewhat ticklish, causing him to squirm, though he offered no protest as his family and friends laughed (not at _Kiku_, but at how "cute" Im Yong Soo's "curious nature" was; his friends merely followed the adults' example simply because, if adults found something funny, then it was funny, no questions asked (even if their humor made no sense whatsoever)).

"Your face is red and hot, like the chili peppers in kimchi!" The Korean exclaimed, his chin on Kiku's shoulder, cheek-to-cheek with his friend. "Those are my favorite, da-ze~!"

"Enough of that now, aru." Yao scolded, shooing Im Yong Soo towards the door (to which the latter complied after a last squeeze of his cousin's breasts ("almost as nice as Xiang's, but not quite, da-ze~!") and a stuck-out tongue) with a small smile, glancing up just in time to see Alfred's peeved frown easing into a satisfied smirk as the talkative Korean skipped out of the building (he would only be gone for the afternoon, to go to the store with his parents, but as far as the blonde was concerned, anytime Emo-Zoo spent away from Kiku was for the better!). Yao's brows rose as his brother and Alfred absentmindedly – as if not realizing they were doing so – shuffled closer to one another. Well, then…

Yao sighed; the two were only children, but if their relationship were to escalate, years from then… it would not be his business per se, but… no matter! The time to worry over that would come later, if at all; such matters could wait.

* * *

><p>"T'dy w're g'nn w'tch a m'vie"<p>

All chatter ceased, dying as abruptly as a recess on Monday. The week leading into December was spent with briefly introducing World War II and the countries involved (along with attempting to hammer the information far enough into the adolescents' minds for them to actually _remember _how they were spelled and pronounced (though only Alfred struggled with the latter)). It was now the seventh day of the twelfth month, and anticipation was mounting as the lights were shut off. Children hurriedly gathered their pillows, carrying them and setting them up in a semi-circle around the television set.

Feliciano lay on his stomach between Ludwig and Lovino, gripping one of their hands with either of his own and lacing their fingers together (much to the embarrassment of the older two); Matthew was situated between Lovino and Kiku, chin and folded arms resting atop his pillow; Kiku had both his forearms propped on his cushion, Alfred pressed against his side (though Kiku didn't mind at all, really), one forearm propped up just like Kiku's, the other wrapped around the Asian's side.

The movie was sad, just as the children were warned, but there was nothing graphic of the deaths nonchalantly mentioned (though they were simultaneously mesmerized and horrified at the mushroom cloud to form as a result of atomic bombing (but mostly the _hatehatehate _that caused the bombs to be made in the first place)). Still, Alfred tightened his hold around Kiku every once in a while, as if reassuring himself of the younger's presence. Kiku found that he wished the movie lasted just a bit longer.

From under the flickering lights, Berwald caught Tino's eyes and silently admitted defeat. A knowing look passed between them as they turned back to the pair of students snuggled against one another like a young couple.

* * *

><p>"I hate Japanese people."<p>

Four of the other members of their table immediately stopped in place, the need to finish packing up before the bell would ring completely forgotten. Feliciano dropped the stack of papers he was straightening, and they scattered (under the desks and on top of some desks and on his chair and even farther away). Kiku had gone rigid.

"America didn't even want to go into the war. But the Japanese changed that. Because they thought they were _better_. They thought their Emperor was _God_." Alfred continued from the seat next to Kiku's (he and Matthew had decided (well, _Alfred _had decided) that it would be more beneficial for them (Alfred) to switch seats (because, though Alfred spent more time than anyone else with Kiku, he believed he still needed more)).

Kiku bit his lip, clenched his fists, bowed his head. His eyes were hidden behind his bangs.

"The Japanese are heartless. I hate them."

"I hate Americans."

Five pairs of eyes shot to the Asian's form, quiescent save for the small quakes in his stature.

"America didn't want revenge. America wanted to prove how _good _they were at killing people. Japan bombed a small port. The Americans bombed two major cities."

When Kiku raised his head, there was no emotion in his eyes. He mechanically finished packing up.

"Americans always do what they say they won't. They always lie. They can't be trusted. Americans are hypocrites."

The bell rang. Kiku headed out the door without so much as a good-bye.

Feliciano quickly gathered up the paper he had dropped, and, with Lovino and Ludwig's help, managed to haphazardly stick them in a folder, and, without further delay, the three took off after their old friend. Alfred and Matthew remained.

"Al?" There was no answer. The older brother seemed to have gone into a state of shock. Matthew sighed and retrieved a history textbook, set it on Kiku's vacant desk and flipped to a particular page.

"Al." Alfred started, looked over at Mattie's sad and serious face, and focused on the page his younger brother had turned to. Alfred tensed.

There was a flag, plain white save for the centered crimson dot, and, beneath it, a label. Japan.

(Vaguely, Alfred recalled a picture he had once seen Fell-chee-ano draw, with him at one end, atop a whale, and Kiku at the opposite end, as if Alfred was riding the large mammal to greet the Asian. Alfred didn't remember when that had been, but he figured it must have been after he had excitedly explained his friends of how Artie told him that Americans went to Japan (though, at the time he had said "Jappin" and Kiku had to correct him once more) to make friends with whales.)

Berwald and Tino gave one another a significant look before they returned to grading the papers to avoid the boys' attention.

* * *

><p>"What's a hypocrite?"<p>

Arthur looked up from the cup of untouched tea in his hand, opened his mouth, closed it and opened it once more with a frown. "I'm not quite sure how to explain…" He replied before setting the ceramic material to his lips once more, expecting his younger brother to wander off in his typical show of impatience.

Alfred sat next to Arthur, and the latter paused before setting the cup back upon the saucer and turning to the former. "Is something wrong, Alfred?"

"I… I dunno."

Arthur sighed and leaned against the back of the couch. "Come here, lad." He said, setting the boy on his lap, and shifted him so Alfred was resting his head against Arthur's chest.

"Well, a hypocrite… is a person who talks about how bad something is, but it is something they do as well."

"Huh?"

"Let's say, for example…" Arthur began, combing through (much tamer) blonde locks, "one person will talk about how another person doesn't do their job right, but the first person isn't doing their job right, either."

"So… they're both not doing their job right?"

"Not necessarily… the second person might, but the first person isn't."

"So the hypocrite…?"

"Is the first person, because he's doing what he says is bad."

"… Oh! So, kinda like how you talk about how you hate France stuff, but you're taking a French class?"

"That-! I!" The corner of Arthur's mouth twitched. "I… I suppose you have a point. But I'm only taking it because it's beneficial for me to understand that frog's sarcastic remarks and-!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know you're making es-coo-ses when you start using big words." Alfred proclaimed with an exaggerated yawn.

Arthur frowned but offered no response (an endless argument would follow if he did, and he would prefer to avoid such a result). "So, will you tell me who called you a hypocrite?"

"… It was nobody. Just some jerk." Alfred muttered, glaring down at the carpet.

"Don't start a fight, Alfred."

"I wouldn't! I'd hit him only if _he_ hit me first!"

"Oh, no you would not!" Arthur began, pinning his brother with a hard stare. "You would hurt the other boy much more than necessary."

"Would _not_!"

"Alfred, I _know _you."

The younger silently seethed, and the elder gave the other a minute or two to calm before ruffling the hair playfully with a fond smile. "How about a cup of tea and some scones? I'm sure you'll feel better afterwards."

"Ew." Alfred scrunched up his face and jumped out of his brother's lap. "No thanks. I don't like leaf-water with my crackers."

Arthur opened his mouth to retort, but snapped it shut when he saw Alfred had already sky-rocketed out of the living room. His eyes glanced over at the tea he still had not tasted before he sighed, picked up the cup and drained the cold Earl Grey into the sink. He prepared some Keemun tea.

* * *

><p>"Kiku! Wait until you see what I have bought, aru!"<p>

"Hm?" The nine year-old looked up from the untouched Superman comic that had remained on his desk for the past week to see his brother at his door, smiling widely and holding several plastic bags in both hands. Yao invited himself in and set the bags atop the wooden surface, unknowingly covering the comic with the largest of them all. Kiku bit his lip.

"I managed to find some pork meat for your friend Ludwig's family; I believe that's what wurst is made of..."

"Nii-chan?"

"For the Vargas family, Motheragreed to buy a bottle of _Nero d'Avole, _and I will prepare a basket of tomatoes and fresh Italian spices we picked up at the store… My school lets out before yours does, so I will pick you up tomorrow, aru."

"Nii-chan…?"

"Oh, and for little Matthew aru!" Yao held up a stuffed polar bear proudly, making it dance before his brother. "Huaaa… if Matthew does not want it, I would gladly take it back, aru…"

"You… bought something for Matthew-kun…?"

"Of course I did, aru!" Yao exclaimed, appalled, and nodded as if to reinforce his good intentions. "Oh, and the present for Alfred, aru!"

Kiku paled immediately, but before he could speak, his brother had already begun rambling on. "I was not certain what I should get for him… and you were not there… but what you told me of him last week helped, though, aru!" Yao extracted from the remaining bag…

… A stuffed alien doll.

Kiku could not bring himself to reveal to Yao the not-quite-game of silence that he had been abruptly subjected to play with Alfred.

* * *

><p>"Kiiiikuuuuu~!"<p>

The aforementioned did not mind at all, that afternoon, when he was, as per usual, tackled with a hug from Feliciano.

_"Grazie! Grazie mille!"_

"T-t-th…"

The Asian craned his neck, and he could just barely make out Lovino's flushed face. "Th… _Grazie." _The elder eventually managed to mutter with a sharp turn of his head.

Kiku accepted the gratitude with a smile (just as he had with Ludwig's awkward _"danke"_ and the suffocating hug he received from the German's older brother). When he managed to release himself from Feliciano's hold (with Lovino's help), Kiku tentatively made his way over to Matthew (who had taken back his original seat after the viewing of the movie eight days before).

"Matthew-kun…" Kiku held out a solid red gift bag.

"Thank you..." The blonde said, after a long pause, quietly.

"One… is for you, the other… eto… and I thought that I should give back the… ano… and Yao nii-chan said the _Merlot _is for your parents…"

Matthew shyly, hesitantly, hugged the other. "Thank you very much, eh."

"You are welcome…" Kiku mumbled in reply, a bit sadly (as he had counted a total of four hugs that afternoon (one from Ludwig's brother, one from the youngest of the Italian brothers and their grandfather, and, now, one from Matthew), but they all felt different), because he had not earned the same hug he had hoped to (even more loving than those he received from Feliciano, even more possessive than those he received from Im Yong Soo), but there was nothing he could do.

Kiku could not comprehend how or why he felt so lonely throughout winter break when he was visiting family the whole time.

* * *

><p>On the morning of February fourteenth, students who usually arrived early arrived <em>extra-early<em> to distribute their valentines. Pink and red and yellow and purple cards, decorated with hearts and lace and ribbon and glitter, littered the previously empty cubbies.

Alfred had been ecstatic when he discovered a tiny box and he eagerly set it upon his desk with no small amount of anticipation. The class had been instructed to go up in groups to retrieve their cards and wait for the rest of their classmates before inspecting the stash they collected. A majority of the students were jumping in their seats with impatience.

"Ve! Did you enjoy your birthday on Friday, Kiku?"

"Hai."

Upon hearing the voice he had missed greatly (which seemed to have developed an even emptier tone and overall dullness in his absence), Alfred's head jerked up, but he resisted the temptation to look over at the Asian. Instead, he began opening and admiring the cards after the class was given the permission to do so. The plain, simple box adorned with a plain, simple ribbon intrigued him more than he would have liked to admit, and he found that his eyes couldn't help but flicker over to them every other second, but he wanted to know who it was from (he had already looked all over, but there was no sign of any way to identify who he had received it from) before eating the chocolate he knew was hidden inside.

Alfred was halfway through with his cards when Mattie picked up a box identical to his own (the same snow-white box, the same fire-truck-red ribbon) and asked, "Is this what you got for us, eh?"

"Hai, Matthew-kun. They are homemade."

_"You _made these!" Lovino asked, sounding more impressed than he surely would have liked, after sampling the chocolate. "They're almost as good as Bella's!"

Kiku, who had visited the Vargas house enough times to be on good terms with both the usual babysitters to take care of the Italian brothers (thankfully, _"Nonno _Rome" (as the youthful grandfather insisted to be called by all the children) no longer hired the Turkish teenager who would pay far too much attention to Lovino and Kiku), blushed at the compliment and mumbled a low "arigato".

Alfred felt a surge of anger (not jealousy, like Mattie used to insist around late November) before he calmed himself and, with a thoughtful nibble on his lip, untied the ribbon, removed the lid and took just a tiny bite into the _best chocolate he had ever before tasted. _Alfred literally had to restrain the moan forming in the back of his throat.

Kiku, after seeing Alfred take a bite into the chocolate he made, looked down at the card he himself was holding and his lips turned up at the corners in the imitation of a smile. There was nothing special about it, not at all, but he was just relieved he had not been overlooked, even if there was no sentiment behind the notion (he recognized Arthur's almost-messy loopy scrawl). Kiku could not help but think of the box of Earl Grey tea, and both the fish and whale plushies he received from the (Kirkland/Jones/)Williams family on his birthday, just three days prior.

Tino, with a gentle smile, turned to Berwald to report what he had seen. Even little progress was better than none at all.

* * *

><p>"It's not proper for the guest of a birthday party to look unhappy."<p>

Kiku did not blink, flinch or react at all, but merely looked over to his left without moving his head from its position between his hands as Xiang took a seat next to him.

"You are showing no emotion at all." Kiku retorted, and he thought he might have seen a flicker of amusement in his cousin's features. Both their eyes shot to _Nonno _Rome as he approached the front door not long after the chime of the doorbell sounded throughout the house, announcing yet another arrival. Feliciano led Matthew, who had just entered, to the Asians at the dining table with a merry skip.

"Ve~ I'm so glad you're here, Matthew! _Peró, _where is Alfred?"

"He… couldn't make it."

Kiku smiled bitterly. Of course, Alfred would not show up at all, despite the constant assurances he had made to Feliciano and Lovino.

Miles away, from his own room, Alfred lay on his bed (face red and hot despite the washcloth on his forehead, body trembling and persperating from under the layers of blankets), delirious with fever and wishing he could have recovered in time for the Italian twins' birthday party.

* * *

><p>Two days after Alfred returned to school from a week-long absence (Kiku ignored his immediate relief after seeing the blonde's seat filled, as their not-quite-fight wasn't nearly so serious as to require the elder to transfer to another class(as he had feared(though he would never admit it))), Matthew seemed to have caught his brother's stomach flu, as he himself also missed a week of school, and the busiest thus far to boot.<p>

Unfortunately, while Matthew was capable of re-teaching everything he had learnt (history, math, science, English) over those more-quiet-than-usual five days, Alfred was not nearly as capable with recalling anything that had happened so much as an hour prior, and, those few chances he did, he stumbled over his words, and what he said never really flowed what with all his backtracks and mid-sentence corrections. So, really, it was not unreasonable that the younger brother would ask Kiku for help when he finally returned on a sluggish Friday.

As Kiku's mother walked her son and Matthew home, she couldn't help but comment on how long it had been since Alfred had been over to their house, or Kiku at Alfred and Matthew's house. Kiku then assured her that they all frequently slept over at the Vargas residence (never at Ludwig's house, for the German was very much embarrassed of his brother), though he conveniently failed to mention that he never stayed on the same nights Alfred and Matthew would.

* * *

><p>The end of the school year was approaching, and, while the children had been anticipating it, they began to fear for the last day, because, then they would have one year left, and then they would be in middle school, and older, and some of their closest friendships would shatter into a billion pieces, or fade away, and now, now… nobody wanted to grow up anymore!<p>

Such pessimistic thoughts hadn't even occurred to Kiku until Feliciano (of all people) brought the topic up, and, since then, the Asian had taken to carrying a camera to school with him every day, capturing every moment (no matter how insignificant or lackluster or mundane the moment happened to be) with the click of a button, for he knew it would be treasured later, years from then, when he'd want to look back and, well, not laugh (even at his young age, he didn't laugh often (but he could at least say that he'd smiled more than Xiang)) but fondly remember his childhood and the beyond wonderful friends he had by his side. A vast majority of his pictures actually consisted of nothing from the usual (Feliciano drawing with that impossibly big grin on his face, Lovino with his mouth wide open mid-rant as he fiercely scowled at Ludwig for one reason or another, Ludwig with his apathetic-as-ever attitude (unless Kiku managed to get a shot of Feliciano in close proximity of the German (a far from rare occurrence), in which case the latter's face would glow with an unfitting pink upon the typically serious, no-nonsense expression), Matthew quiet and never once actually _aware _that he was the focus of the camera (both because he was never really the focal point of anything, and because Kiku knew the blonde to be far too shy to actually _consent _to being captured on film), Xiang as… well, quiescent as he always had and would be, and (when Kiku happened to see (be stalked by) him during recess,) Im Yong Soo with a beaming smile and holding something or other high up in the air as he dramatically claimed to have invented whatever the object in question happened to be), though, once or twice, when Alfred happened to fall asleep in class or was all the way across the room and the Asian had no witnesses watching his move, Kiku would sneak a picture of the elder.

He didn't notice Ludwig walking up to him from behind as he quickly snapped a shot of Alfred reading (the bean bag chairs were now surrounding him like a fort), and, after the German had turned the situation over in his head (and considering what Feliciano would have to say about the matter (though he would never admit to agreeing with the younger Italian brother's (of all people) opinion in normal circumstances)), smiled thinly and walked away, pressing question forgotten as the pieces instantly fell into place.

Berwald watched the scene silently, his lips molded into what only Tino and his students would recognize to be a smile. Tino gave a tiny sigh of relief before he crept up behind the oblivious Asian.

"You know…" he began, much to Kiku's surprise (the poor boy had nearly jumped a whole foot above the ground and almost dropped his camera) in a low, knowing murmur, "a shortage in communication might be the biggest cause for broken friendships. If I didn't understand Berwald – moi! Um, Mr. Oxenstierna – we wouldn't be able to do our jobs or get along… but because we communicate with each other a lot, we don't have to worry about that. And if we don't agree on something, we usually find some way to solve the problem. Communication isn't just talking, though. Even something little, just to let the other person you're not mad anymore, is enough." With that, a gentle pat on the shoulder and a smile radiating empathy, Tino straightened and returned to his work. Kiku blinked, taking in the words before he, too, smiled.

* * *

><p>Matthew swung his legs lightly as he attentively listened to Francis, the son of his mother's best-friend-slash-rival, and the elder's careful pronunciation as his forefinger pointed at the words he spoke, the arrangement of some of the letters utterly misleading, though the younger followed without so much as a frown on his face. When Francis finished reading the sentence, he passed the kiddie book over to Matthew.<p>

_"Un, deux, trois. Il ya trois singes dans les arbres."_

_ "Tres bien!"_

Matthew smiled shyly up at the Frenchman, and Francis fondly ruffled the blonde hair nearly as long as his own.

"Very well, indeed. However, I suggest you choose a different language to learn; get those nice brothers to teach you Italian, or Ludwig to teach you German. Better yet, get Kiku to teach you something; the kid is trilingual, he'll probably be your best bet!" Arthur commented from his place against the doorway, though he had a proud smile – of his brother's adaption to the foreign language.

_"Mon cher, _might you be implying that I am not a good enough teacher for Mattieu?"

"Would you _stop _pronouncing his name like that! His name is _Matthew _for Christ's sake, you frog!"

"So you say. In any case, are _you _not learning French?"

Matthew looked between the two bickering teenagers, easily amused at their childish antics. It was then, thinking of the deep friendship that lay between Francis and Arthur (hidden under scornful words and acidic tones, insults that were far from genuine and senseless competitiveness) when Matthew realized that, between Alfred and Kiku had been nothing but pure, white innocence and, within their chests, right in the center, was their love for one another, a small bud, but holding potential to blossom, with time. Matthew thought he liked to imagine the heart to be a rather nice shade of red, a deep crimson, the same color of roses, or what Francis like to call _les fleurs de l'amour_.

The pieces had finally been put together.

* * *

><p>On the very last day of fourth grade, Kiku, thinking back to Tino's advice, walked right up to Matthew (who was listening attentively to Alfred's rambles) without so much as a stumble or falter in his gait, and, holding out his camera for emphasis, asked, "May I take a picture of you two?"<p>

(Though he appeared calm and composed as ever, Kiku could feel his hands just barely shaking and the fluttering in his stomach. All he knew was that he had let his friendship with Alfred die out without a fight, even though it was worth one, and, he could now see how foolish he was, to try and act like there was no connection between them all because of a historical documentary of events that had happened long before he was even born, events that did not personally involve them. But, while it may as well be too late to repair what they once had, the least he could do was ascertain the memories they would recall of one another would not be unpleasant. The end of the year called for improvements, for bettering what there was, and Kiku would very much like to better the awkward tension between he and his once-friend.)

Alfred, for the first time in his life ever, was speechless, unable to reply as he stared, in shock, at the face he had wanted to see more than a glimpse of for months and months, but Matthew, for the first time in hislife ever, spoke up for his brother. "Oh, sure! Go ahead, Kiku."

"Y-yeah…" Alfred stuttered, and, with a shaky smile, permitted the Asian to capture his uncharacteristically unsure image forever, Matthew next to him and looking uncharacteristically not-lacking in self-confidence.

"Domo arigato, Matthew-kun, Alfred-kun." Kiku said with a nod to both brothers and walked off feeling a weight lift from his chest. He felt much better than before – almost, but not quite, as if he had reached a sort of closure.

"… Al?" Matthew called for the third time before his brother finally blinked and returned to earth from who-knows-where, though his eyes remained locked on the departing figure. After another slow blink, Alfred realized the ebony-haired boy was giving emerged in a deep, one-sided discussion with Feli-chano (one-sided on the Italian's side, of course) and, after yet another blink, he shot off like a rocket, because, Kiku was worthy of better people to take advantage of his attention. People like… heroes.

"Ah. They made up."

"Yeah." Matthew replied, a huge grin on his face, to Xiang's dull – but almost pleasantly-surprised-sounding – voice from behind him.

"That's so nice, da-ze! I was wond'ring when they'd talk again…"

The three watched as Kiku and Alfred, Asian and American, both so completely different and yet incomprehensively alike, talked as if there had never before been a rift between them. They obviously had not addressed what caused them to drift apart, but it was not important anymore, and so, nothing had happened. All the sneaky glances, the tense silences, the game of pretending the other was not there at all, _all _of it had never occurred, as far as anyone else was concerned.

From the doorway, Berwald and Tino stood, the former with his arms around the latter's waist, witnessing the make-up of the two students they had feared would never gather the urge to talk to one another again. There were smiles on both their faces.

* * *

><p>"Would you like me to take a picture of you and all of your friends, aru?"<p>

Kiku – sporting a large grin that almost looked as if it didn't belong on his face – answered affirmatively, and he and his friends clustered in the living room of the Honda residence. His friends' families were there as well, though the gathering at his house was more spur-of-the-moment than anything (Romulus and Folkert had just happened to meet up as they picked up their respective grandchildren, and Gilbert had gone with his grandfather because he knew Antonio would be picking up the Italian brothers with Romulus (though, truth be told, Gilbert was beginning to get kinda freaked with how hung up his Spaniard friend was over Lovino…). Arthur had been there with his brothers' parents, Francis accompanying him simply because, well, middle school had let out a week prior, and so he absolutely needed to use any possible opportunity to annoy the Brit and, oh! Gilbert and Antonio were there as well, _une merveilleuse coincidence, non?)._

Alfred's wrapped arm around Kiku's waist did not escape Francis' attention, thus, who could truly blame the Frenchman for whispering to Arthur, "How long, do you think, until they discover their mutual love?"

Arthur – who had been immersed in a surprisingly nice conversation with Yao (their younger brothers got along wonderfully, why should they not as well? The past was the past, after all!) – nearly spit out the absolutely remarkable Keemun the latter had fixed up for him, but was fortunately able to swallow and, after a few coughs, managed to sputter "Wh-wh-wh-what now!"

"Dear Yao's darling brother and your precious Alfred, of course! I guarantee they will be an item in later years, but with your brother dense as he is (which is to say about as dense as you, no offence intended, _mon cher_), the inevitable would most likely be postponed no matter how well they complement one another." Francis declared with a dramatic sigh.

"I-I! You! The-they're only ten years old!"

"Love is everywhere _mon cher, _and age is but a number!"

"… You git!" Arthur muttered darkly with a step on the Frenchman's toes. Yao watched with a grin hidden behind his too-long sleeve.

* * *

><p>That same night, as he hosted an impromptu sleepover, Kiku lay on his right side atop his futon, brows slightly furrowed as his he let out a long sigh and curled up tighter, unable to comprehend his body's resistance to rest.<p>

"Hey," a soft whisper blew over Kiku's left, exposed ear, and the Asian's eyes popped open before he blinked in surprise. "Ya can't sleep either, huh?"

Kiku blinked once more, then again. "… Yes." He replied in an almost inaudible murmur. "I cannot sleep." Wordlessly, he scoot over closer to the middle of the futon, and he found he automatically relaxed with Alfred's arms wrapped around him and body curled over the back of his own. In eerie almost-synchronization, their lids began to droop and their mouths stretched in wide yawns. Snuggling closer to one another and under the comforter, they fell asleep within minutes.

As Kiku drifted off, he found he did not care if Feliciano, Lovino, Ludwig and Matthew found him and Alfred like this in the morning; he was not nearly as easily embarrassed as he had once been.

* * *

><p>"And then, man! You wouldn't believe it!" Alfred exclaimed, more enthusiastic than usual before he took a vicious bite of the double cheeseburger before him (he was finishing his second, as well as the extra-large order of fries that had originally been for him and Matthew to share). "I wif 'oo wa' 'ere!"<p>

"Yes, well," Kiku cleanly cut in before his friend could continue, "I wish I was there, too. Um, Alfred-kun, you have some…" at a loss for words, the raven-haired boy could only wipe at the left side of his own mouth.

Alfred quickly swallowed. "I got what?"

"You… ano…" Kiku trailed off as Alfred waited for a response before slurping at his large chocolate milkshake, and, with a small sigh and sheepish smile, Kiku resigned himself to wiping the crumbs off Alfred's lips with a napkin. The elder blinked only once before his face lit up with a beaming smile.

"Thanks, Kiku! So, uh, yeah, back to what I was sayin'…"

Matthew – seated next to the garrulous blonde – and Arthur – situated across his youngest brother – watched as Kiku somehow kept up with Alfred's nonstop speed-talking that could have passed for gibberish in an average human's ears. The middle brother continued, going on and on and on about something only Kiku could comprehend, until his parents returned to the booth in the mall's food court with a box of pastries. A tart for Arthur, a brioche for Matthew and, for Alfred and Kiku both, a slice of chocolate cake topped with light-blue and neon-green frosting.

"We weren't sure what you would want, but Alfred said you would probably like whatever he would, so…"

Even as he silently vowed to never again eat anything of a suspicious color, Kiku found he did not mind the unpleasant, shiver-inducing, absolutely _repulsive _aftertaste when he saw how pleased his best friend was, and thus, held his tongue (no matter how strong the temptation to find the nearest trash bin to empty the contents of his stomach in). It was December 7th.

* * *

><p>"Whoa, dude, you should see yourself!"<p>

"I think they look good on you, eh"

From behind frames identical to Alfred's, dull brown eyes blinked slowly. "The lenses are fake… so I suppose it is all right, since I can still see, but…"

"Ve~ they really compliment you, Kiku! Right, Ludwig?"

There was a brief clearing of the throat before a curt, "Yes."

The Asian accepted the compliments with a slight nod and silently glanced over to Lovino; he wanted an honest opinion, and it was common knowledge that a desire for such would only be fulfilled by asking the older of the Vargas brothers. The Italian in question was suddenly under the inquisitive gaze of five curious eyes, and he tensed up from the unexpected amount of attention on him.

"I-i-i-it… y-you… you don't… look bad."

A smile graced Kiku's face even as he removed the glasses. "Thank you, _minna, _but I don't need glasses, so I see no point in wearing them." He said politely, and gave an apologetic look to his best friend's pouting face.

"Glasses are cool, though! Haven't you seen how many kids have been wearin' 'em lately?"

"Sixth grade is not an excuse to look 'cool', Alfred-kun." Kiku sighed with a tone of someone who has repeated the same line one too many times.

"But, Kiiiikuuuuu~!" Alfred predictably whined as Kiku looked at the date on the receipt with what looked to be a fond quirk of the lips: Dec 07

Kiku found that he did not mind Alfred's constant bouts of complaints, but rather, found them to be quite adorable.

* * *

><p>"Pretty Pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase~?"<p>

"A-ano… Ludwig-kun has advised me against eating any foods that are not of Asian origin…"

"You're gonna take Luddy's word over your _best friend's?_ Don't brush it off like you did with the glasses last year…"

Kiku bit his lip, unable to argue such a valid point, and hesitantly took the offered cheeseburger from Alfred, biting into it carefully as the elder hopefully weighed his expression.

"It is… surprisingly good." Kiku said in genuine shock as he took another bite. Alfred pumped a fist in the air.

"I told ya you'd like it! I dunno why you haven't had one yet, we've known each other for so long!"

Kiku smiled through his third and biggest bite, and found that he honestly thought the burger to be almost as good as Alfred had claimed it to be. His phone's screen lit up as he received a text message, and the date declared it to be seven days into the last month of the year.

* * *

><p>Inhaling through clenched teeth, Kiku quickly adjusted the position of his wrist, even as the hand of the other arm shook and trembled through the pain. When he had filled the Superman mug with steaming-hot boiled water – and the chocolate powder had, as a result, converted to a steaming-hot chocolate liquid – Kiku hurriedly set the ceramic piece down and carelessly let the pot clatter into the sink, turning the tap water to the coldest temperature possible and letting it run over the burnt pink of the back of his hand.<p>

"You 'kay Kiku?" Alfred asked as he entered the kitchen, his gaze instantly zeroing into his best friend's pained grimace before he assessed the situation. Face carefully blank, he stood behind the Asian, towering over him slightly, and turned off the faucet without a word.

Confused, Kiku looked over his shoulder, his right hand stinging and trembling as the cool relief he had felt vanished without warning. He was just about to turn the faucet back on when Alfred gingerly took hold of his wrist and brought the burnt hand to his face, lips tenderly caressing the flushed skin.

"W-w-w-what a-are you doing!" Kiku demanded, embarrassed, as his face glowed a bright red while Alfred remained unfazed by his own actions.

"Kisses make everything better." Was all the answer Alfred would give, and it lacked his careless tone, even with his nonchalant attitude. He had said it with such a straight face, Kiku couldn't help the rapid _thumpthumpthumping_ of his heart or the fluttering he felt in his stomach, though he was unsure as to _why, _exactly, he would react in such a way. Nonetheless, he found the sensation to be odd, but pleasant nonetheless, and, unbeknownst to him, there was a dazed smile on his face.

From its place on the wall, the calendar hung on its last page, and the days of that month that had already passed, a mere six, were crossed out, forgotten on this memorable day between two best friends drinking hot chocolate from their respective mugs, comfortably seated on the couch, a blanket draped over the both of them, watching the snow fall against the gray early-morning sky.

* * *

><p>"Did I not tell you, <em>mon cher? <em>Ah, but you did not listen to Big Brother Francis as you should have…"

_"Why _on earth do you insist on that ridiculous nickname! And, quite frankly, I have no idea what you mean."

_"Non? _Well, I suppose I will have to clarify-"

"Please do."

"In that deserted corner, at the very far back, that lovely couple dancing. Do you not see them, the tall blonde and the short raven-haired one with billowy sleeves?"

"… Is that Alfred dancing? But, wait… isn't that… _Kiku!"_

With a victorious smirk, Francis nodded. _"Oui. _Don't tell me you missed the oh-so-obvious signs, _mon lapin?"_

"I… I…" Arthur opened and closed his mouth, speechless.

"And I was looking all over for them, too, ve!" Feliciano piped up from behind the older two, a sketchbook suddenly in his possession. After a quick glance at his friends – who were, indeed, now a couple – he set to drawing, hoping to capture the moment forever (though, he knew it was unnecessary; his godmother, Elizabeta Héderváry (who also happened to be Kiku's photography teacher), was mostly likely already doing so with the camera she carried everywhere for situations for such as these). Standing beside him was Ludwig, who was pinching the bridge of his nose and heaving a large sigh.

"Oh~ are those the two you were telling me about, Francis? They're so adorable together!" Angelique, a (perhaps _the only_) mutual friend of the Frenchman and Briton, cooed excitedly. The latter simply looked at her, furry brows raised.

"W-what… you!" Arthur spun to face his oldest friend, shock (metaphorically) written all over his face. "How many people have you told! Furthermore, how long has this been going on! How long have you _known!"_

"What is going on, aru?"

"Yao!" Arthur turned to the Asian with such abruptness the elder jumped back just a bit. "Alfred and Kiku are… surely you don't think…?"

Yao blinked, scanned the high school gymnasium for his brother, and tilted his head upon sight of the aforementioned, a finger at his cheek as he considered what Arthur had almost said. "Aa, Kiku wouldn't dance in any other case, so I suppose they are." His face softened and he smiled as he watched the two ninth graders dance. Aside from Feliciano and Ludwig, the small gathering he was involved in was composed of seniors. "So, they did after all… I was beginning to wonder if they ever would, aru."

Arthur sighed and resigned himself to the fate of that one particular person to always be the last to know of the latest news. He looked over at Antonio shamelessly cuddling with a seething Lovino and Gilbert loudly cackling with a silently chuckling Matthew as he thought this and shook his head. He looked back to the older of his brothers and the Asian he already thought of as family.

Alfred, unabashed, was holding Kiku close around the waist, the fingers of his left hand laced with those of Kiku's right as the latter tentatively laid his other hand on the elder's chest. Alfred was grinning like no tomorrow whilst Kiku's face was glowing like a red siren, but there was no mistaking the curve of lips, the ghost of a smile.

"Ah, I didn't know Yao was here."

The aforementioned immediately tensed and, trembling slightly, he turned to see the smiling silver-haired Russian who was noticeably seeking him more and more often. "Oh, Ivan… I, ah, was just about to go talk to Xiang, aru."

"Oh?" Ivan glanced over to Yao's cousin and looked back to the senior he had sought out, smile never wavering. "He seems occupied da."

Xiang was, indeed, occupied; he was situated in another far corner, face expressionless as ever, though there seemed to be a devious spark in his eyes, as he comfortably leaned against the wall. One could only guess what he could have been saying, but judging by Im Yong Soo's flushed cheeks and wide eyes, the best option would probably be to leave the situation alone.

"It is very important. So, if you all would excuse me, aru." Yao politely bowed, sending a sharp look at Arthur and Francis, both of whom were snickering behind their hands, while Angelique watched on with an innocent grin, and walked briskly to his cousin.

"I'll go with you da." Ivan volunteered, and walked right at the elder's heels.

"Aiiyah! It is only across the gym, I don't need a chaperone aru!"

"Ah, young love…" Arthur sighed dramatically. "I would have never thought Alfred and Kiku to be so cliché as to confess at a school dance."

A golden brow rose as sapphire blue irises watched Feliciano lead Ludwig away with a merry skip. "What makes you so certain they confessed to one another?"

"How else would they have gotten together?" Arthur reasoned with a shrug, unable to pry his eyes away from the scene Yao was making.

"Perhaps… they just discovered what had always been there, without need for reassurance (it is painfully obvious, after all), like… putting together a puzzle without using the picture on the box for guidance."

"Just what rubbish are you spouting now?" Arthur asked flatly, turning slowly, only to jump when his childhood friend bowed at the waist, and, with a delicate hold of his hand, kissed his fingertips, maintaining eye contact with him all the while. Arthur's face turned a scarlet red as he sputtered. He didn't notice Angelique give an almost inaudible giggle before walking away.

As Kiku separated from Alfred for a quick breath before leaning forward once more, he found that he had never before felt so complete, so whole, and he discovered that the feelings had been there all along, shyly hidden deep within the recesses of his heart, and they would remain forevermore.

* * *

><p>There! I finished :D<p>

If you have any questions, comments, concerns, constructive criticism, etc., please review or send a message and I'll get back to you when I can

Ja Ne =D!


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